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Miles lays the blanket next to a lifeguard stand and places our bounty of snacks on top of it. "I figured you'd rather not eat in the car."
"Thanks."
"You cold?"
"Only if you're about to offer me your shirt."
"Leather jacket's in the backseat."
The same backseat where he was going to fuck me. Not that it matters. I shake my head, sit down, and fo
cus on my dinner. I'm so hungry that even grocery store sashimi tastes good. Actually, it tastes amazing. Soft tuna, chewy rice, spicy wasabi.
Miles is deep in thought, but I have no clue what he's thinking. I have no idea how to broach the topic.
Once I'm finished eating, I move on to my other need. I undo the top button of my blouse and push my chest forward.
His eyes go to my chest. His tongue slides over his lips. But he doesn't touch me.
He does break the silence. "We are friends. You can talk to me."
"I'm not interested."
"Pretty sure I should take offense to that."
"Then take offense. But it's not something I want to talk about. And certainly not with you. You made it clear that you don't want that kind of closeness. That we're not confidants."
His voice gets low. "You're drowning in something. You don't have to tell me what it is, but I'm not going to watch without throwing a life vest."
Great. Sensitive Miles is out and he's speaking in metaphors. I have to convince him I'm fine even if I don't believe it myself.
I stare into his beautiful blue eyes. "Thank you for the sentiment. But I'm fine. My sister died three months ago. I still miss her sometimes, but it's nothing out of the ordinary."
"She was a drug addict, wasn't she?"
I scowl. I hate thinking of Rosie like that, but she was a drug addict at that point. "That's not any of your business."
"If it affects our relationship, it is."
"What relationship is that? We've had sex and breakfast." I finish my food and drop my fork in the bowl.
There's a tightness in my chest. I don't want to discuss this with Miles. Hell, I don't want to discuss this with anyone. I thought we were on the same page.
I take a deep breath. I can convince him it's nothing. "My sister, Rosie, starting doing drugs behind my back. It went on for about a year. She lied the whole time, and I looked the other way, because I didn't want to believe it was possible. I was studying for the MCAT, and I didn't have any spare energy to worry about her."
"Why are you trying to convince me you're over it?"
"I'm not trying to convince you of anything."
"You'll never be over it. Not really."
"How do you know what I'll be over?"
"I know how it feels to lose the person who matters more to you than anyone." His eyes go to the sand.
My heart is in civil war. I want to tell him he's wrong and offer him comfort. "Are you going to share those details with me?"
"That's not my point."
